Slow
by FallinThroughSpace
Summary: The Doctor slowly comes to the realization he loves Rose. I am miserable at summeries. Also, this is my first fic, so be gentle.
1. Just

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Doctor Who. Not one little bit. Neither do I own Marcus Foster's amazing song "I Was Broken", which is the inspiration for this story. I do heartily recommend giving it a listen before you read. It'll help set the tone, if you're into that.

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_I was tied, but now unbound_  
_My head is off the ground_  
_For a long time I was so weary_

He'd never admit to how that first touch had affected him. Like a jolt of electricity, straight through his left hand, arcing up his arm and setting fire to his thoughts. Adrenaline racing in his veins. Hearts beating in a rhythm he'd not felt since before the end of the War. He felt... alive.

What was happening to him?

For a while he'd tried to convince himself otherwise. Life or death situation, that. Reactionary chemicals in the bloostream, fogging up what was otherwise his usual, flawless memory. That shock was just the difference in their body temperatures - humans run so much hotter than Time Lords, anyway. Couldn't have been. Just a little pink and yellow ape. That's all. Nothing special. Just... Just Rose Tyler. That's all, yeah.

It had nothing to do with the smiles she would give him that lit up even the darkest recesses of his thoughts. Certainly nothing to do with the sound of her loud, unreserved laughter when he got her going, even if it did temporarily drown out the echoes of screams and pain. And definitely nothing to do with how his hearts seemed to stop for a moment whenever they touched, be it to hold each other's hand, or a hugs that lingered longer than best mates probably should.

Not in the least did it have anything to do with how Time seemed to flow around her. She couldn't see it, the slightly pinkish gold of her timestream, but he could. At times it she almost glowed with it, shimmering in the air around her. Unusual, for a human. Normally, he could catch hints and slivers around most humans, very dull and ordinary and yet unique to each individual, but Rose was almost perpetually alight. Particularly in the TARDIS. It was as though being closer to the Time Vortex brought it out of her.

Still, she was just another human, right? Another companion along for the adventure. Just Rose.

Sometimes, he almost believed himself.

And then he'd see her, curled up on the jumpseat, fast asleep after one of their adventures. Her efforts at remaining awake while he tinkered and puttered underneath the console fallen short, her frail human inadequacies laid out in front of him. Just a child, really. Nineteen was so very young.

He'd pry himself away from his work - more of a distraction from her and his thoughts than necessary repair - and quietly walk over to Rose. She was so deeply asleep, the Doctor could watch as her eyelids fluttered in her dreaming state. He brushed a stray lock of bottle blonde hair from her soft face, and sighed to himself. Rose slept on.

He shook himself, trying to get away from these new feelings taking root in his hearts. Time Lord, me. She's just a human. Just... Rose.

The lie couldn't have been any more obvious.


	2. Dream

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Doctor Who. Not one little bit. Neither do I own Marcus Foster's amazing song "I Was Broken", which is the inspiration for this story. I do heartily recommend giving it a listen before you read. It'll help set the tone, if you're into that.__

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_Tired of the sound, I've heard before,_  
_The gnawing of the night time at the door,_  
_Haunted by the things I've made_  
_Stuck between the burning light and the dusty shade._

He could hear their screams. Feel the agony of fire as it burned across their skins, lungs filling with smoke and ash. He wanted to cry out, to beg forgiveness for his actions, but the words died on his tongue as his people died around him. Panicking, he ran. He was always good at that part, really. The running.

He only managed a handful of strides before he tripped over one of the fallen, his forearms impacting the ground heavily. As he rolled over, lungs heaving and desperate for clean air, he was grateful for his respiratory bypass.

There near his feet lay Rose Tyler's corpse.

He scrambled to his knees, and with trembling hands, reached out to her. Deep grey charcoal smeared where his fingers grazed her cheek, now cool instead of the blazing heat he was used to from her. The unnerving stillness of death had taken hold, robbed her of all the vibrancy she had contained.

The Doctor pulled her into his arms, shaking and weeping like a child amidst the chaos around him. There's no way, he wanted to tell himself. She couldn't be here. It wasn't possible. He clutched her tighter still, the weight of her in his arms so real. But she can't. She wasn't. Was she? Either way his muddled mind thought about it, one truth remained - it was his fault.

Then, even through the din of burning buildings and cries of agony, he could hear a whisper, clear as day. Insistent, pleading, begging.

"Doctor? Doctor!"

Rose?

"Doctor!"

He looked down at the woman in his arms. No, still dead, he thought grimly. But...

"Doctor!"

It couldn't be, he insisted to himself. She's here. In my arms. Cold as night. He pulled her closer, burying his face in her tangled hair, as though he was trying to hide himself in her shell. Her voice echoed on the wind.

I've lost it, he though to himself. Every last scrap of feigned sanity must be gone, blown away in the gusts of smoke and char. The Doctor laughed, albeit a bit maniacally. Gone, me.

"Doctor!"

A soft touch on his shoulder this time. A burst of light, shocking and white. Then, nothing.


	3. Struggle

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Doctor Who. Not one little bit. Neither do I own Marcus Foster's amazing song "I Was Broken", which is the inspiration for this story. I do heartily recommend giving it a listen before you read. It'll help set the tone, if you're into that.

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_I said now I used to think the past was dead and gone,_  
_But I was wrong, so wrong._  
_Whatever makes you blind_  
_Must make you strong, make you strong,_

The Doctor gasped as he bolted upright, instincts kicking into overdrive. Fight. Defend. Above all, survive.

When nothing fought back, and his vision had cleared, he was faced with a very frightened looking Rose, pinned underneath his tense body by the wrists. Her wide, whiskey-coloured eyes were locked on his, breaths shallow and quick. He could taste the fear-laden hormones on each soft puff of air, they were so close.

A long pause. "Rose?"

She tried to pull in a deeper breath. "You were dreaming." When he didn't reply, she continued. "Heard you moanin' in the console room from down the hall, came to check. You were saying... things." She hesitated. "I got scared, when you wouldn't wake up."

They were still locked in position on the grated floor as she spoke. He couldn't even imagine what she'd heard him say in that dark dream. Shame flooded through him, and he leaped up, releasing her, running a long-fingered hand through his short hair.

Rose was slower to rise, lifting herself to a sitting position first. She watched him warily, like she were watching a wild animal in close proximity, unsure of what he would do next.

"Sorry, Rose." The Doctor muttered, head bowed and turned away. She should have never had to see him like that. Like this. A burned out, old soldier, suffering in his sleep. He went to the console and leaned heavily on his hands, his head still down, his back to her.

"S'all right, yeah." She stood, and tried to rub her sore wrists without his notice. "You okay now?" Rose paused, waiting for an answer or indication that never came. "You need anything?"

He needed... The Doctor sighed. He needed things this girl couldn't even begin to comprehend, and an absolution she couldn't provide.

The warmth of her hand on his back both startled and soothed him instantly. The Doctor melted into her gentle caress as subtly as he could, not wanting to frighten her off. He was sure she could feel him shudder slightly as she moved her hand in gentle circles. She had no idea how powerfully she could affect him. The Doctor winced. Rose could affect him more powerfully than he was willing to admit, was more like it.

"I know you probably don't want to talk. Or even answer anything I say. S'all right." Rose paused, and he shivered again as she moved a little closer. "But I'm staying right 'ere til you tell me to leave. Not gonna abandon you."

As the fingers of her other hand moved to grip his closed fist on the console, the Doctor stilled. He could see the glow of her timestream weaving and shifting alongside his, now. The deep indigo blues contrasted sharply with her golden pinks, but somehow still managed to complement each other. Light and dark. Youth and age. Infinite and desperately finite.

She was so willing to give. To step up and hand out parts of herself in hopes that it might take the edge off the pain she didn't understand. To offer a small hand, a touch, a caress, a word as a balm over his ragged scars and inadequacies. For all his Time Lord superiority, this small human girl understood certain aspects of life in a way he had failed to in 900 years.

The Doctor spun, lightning quick, pulling his companion into a hard embrace. Rose gasped at the sudden, unexpected action, but just as quickly fell into the hug, holding him just as tightly as she could. She may not know what he'd dreamed of, or what was going on in that daft head of his, but she understood this - the need for touch, where words failed. Sometimes, that's all you needed.

Later, when the embrace had broken, and Rose had had a full night's sleep, life would resume. He'd smile that foolish grin or grump about as though nothing had happened. They'd never speak directly about what had transpired that night, but one thing was certain - something very deep had changed between them.

If only the Doctor could figure out what, exactly.


	4. Forgive

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Doctor Who. Not one little bit. Neither do I own Marcus Foster's amazing song "I Was Broken", which is the inspiration for this story. I do heartily recommend giving it a listen before you read. It'll help set the tone, if you're into that.

_In my time I've melted into many forms_  
_From the day that I was born, _  
_I know that there's no place to hide_  
_Stuck between the burning shade and the fading light,_  
_I was broken, For a long time, but It's over now._

To say he'd been hard on her might've been an understatement. His TARDIS had been lost. He had almost been lost. Earth had almost been lost, and for what? Nothing, really.

No, he stopped himself. That wasn't true. It was her father, a father she'd never really known in her lifetime. A void like that, no matter how small it may seem to him, was probably irresistible to fill. Surely he could understand that now. If the Doctor had been given a similar chance, with his people...

That hadn't stopped him from completely blowing up at her the minute they returned to the TARDIS. Rose learned quickly why they had called him the Oncoming Storm. Voice booming, hands flailing in the air in frustration, a look of chilling rage buried just behind his crystal blue eyes. He threatened, raved, and shouted til he felt sure Rose would turn and run, or worse, demand to go home. Still, he couldn't bring himself to stop.

Unsurprisingly, Rose gave as good as she got. Sometimes he forgot how strong she could be. How stubborn. How set her ideals were to her, even if they differed from his. She raged right back, shout for shout. If the Doctor had stood and watched her for even a moment, he'd of seen how devastated she was about what had happened. How she'd almost lost the most important thing in her world. But he was blind in his anger.

Refusing to break in front of him, she chose her last words to him carefully and coldly.

"Just another stupid ape, me. What the hell do I know? S'not like you've never been faced with a hard decision about something you love, have you, Doctor?"

They stared each other down for another heartbeat, then she turned and stalked down the corridor to her room.

He sighed, and rubbed his head in his hands. As much as he'd hated to admit it, he'd made a right arse of himself today.

What was wrong with him? It was like his gob always got the best of him in this body. He found himself wondering, longing for the silver tongue of some of his other incarnations, or at least some of the gentleness. He'd never gotten so muddled up and explosive with companions before, had he? Well, maybe. But it never felt like this, like his hearts might finally give out if she were to decide this was their last adventure. Like not having her here with him was something beyond wrong.

He wasn't sure how long he'd stood in the console room, drowning in his aggravating thoughts, but he knew this would get him no where. The Doctor took a few steps toward the corridor Rose had disappeared down. He knew her room was there, not much farther. A few more steps, and he stopped.

He could hear her from several doors down. Deep, heavy sobs. A shuddering, ragged breath. Mournful, and so alone. Quickly, he turned back.

Always the coward, me.

He knew he needed to make this right. To make some sort of amends, at least. But how?

Wandering back to the console room, he felt the TARDIS pushing him towards the display gently, as though she wasn't sure how he'd react to her suggestion. He drew a finger softly over the coordinates, turning them over in his mind. Perfect. So bloody perfect. Why hadn't he thought of this himself?

A strange sort of lightness swept over the Doctor as he dashed and darted about the console, maneuvering dials and levers until the rotor began its familiar wheezing groan. Yes, this was perfect. Perfect, unlike him. But that didn't matter. Maybe at least this would help to patch things up. Maybe just a little.

A lurch, and a final groan and the TARDIS stilled. They were here. He flew to the door, and hesitated.

Please, please let this be the right place. Let me have landed her where I needed, for once. Let her see something beautiful, let it show her...

As he began to open the door, he heard her soft footfalls behind him. The Doctor spun on the spot, and their eyes instantly locked from across the room. He felt his chest constrict at the expression on her face. Fear. Sadness. Desperate hope.

"We've..." She trailed off, scared to finish the sentence. "We've, uh, landed...? I heard the engines from my room..." Rose shuffled nervously, tugging on the hem of her hoodie. She swallowed hard, and hoped she'd cleaned her face enough so that it wasn't quite so obvious she'd been crying moments earlier. She hoped fervently she wouldn't burst into tears again in front of him now.

"Rose Tyler," he said, breathlessly. "I'm..." He faltered. When he raged, he couldn't keep the words from running out, and now? Now that he needed a softer tone, his words failed. Instead, he stretched out his hand to her, beckoning her closer, begging for forgiveness with his eyes. "Come see."

He opened the doors slowly, hoping he'd ended up where he'd intended to be, and heard Rose's sharp intake of air at the sight before them. Filling their field of vision ahead of them was a vibrant nebula in all shades of red, from the richest burgundy to the palest magenta. The stars themselves glittered like someone had thrown a fistful of diamonds into the vastness. They shimmered a cool, hard blue, contrasting with the diffused warmth of the cloudy nebula.

Long moments passed in silence as they stood together in the doorway. Rose stared at the remarkable sight before them, and the Doctor couldn't keep his eyes off of her. The TARDIS's shields kept them safe and warm, he had no worry of that, but it was her reaction he sought. Humans felt everything so deeply, and he found himself craving to see this as she did, to hear her exclaim or stutter or even give him that look. That look could make him feel as though everything was new again, wondrous and full of miracles.

Tentatively, he felt her fingertips seeking out his. The gentle touch tickled the back of his hand until her small fingers found their place, winding between his tightly. The Doctor could feel the tension in them both easing away.

"S'beautiful," Rose whispered finally.

"Caldwell 49," The Doctor replied. Or, the Rose Nebula. He didn't feel brave enough to tell her that part. Would probably laugh at him, call him sentimental, question his sanity. Or get ideas he wasn't sure he was ready for her to have, even if his head swam with them regularly, filling him to the point of bursting.

Rose snorted a small laugh. "Awful name for something like this. Figured it'd have some lovely alien name."

The Doctor chuckled quietly, squeezing Rose's hand a little tighter. "Time Lords had another name for it," he said, his desire to share his vast knowledge of the universe giving him an out. He closed his eyes, letting the chiming sounds of his native language echo out into the darkness of space. His voice took an edge of longing, almost reverence as the untranslated syllables died away.

When he opened his eyes, he was met with Rose's, brimming with tears. She was so still, and so close. He could hear her heart speeding up in the silence. The Doctor watched her eyes drop to his lips, her tongue darting out to moisten her own, before her gaze flickered back up.

He leaned down, ever so slightly, drawn in by the warmth of her breath. What had happened? Not even an hour ago they had been screaming at each other with such venom he thought they'd reached the end of their travels together, and now? Now he was breathless and wondering with increasing fervour how her lips would taste? How did they get here? How had he come even close to deserving this?

Sensing his hesitation, Rose withdrew a little. "That was," her gaze dropped and just as quickly pulled up again. "That was beautiful, too." She pulled back a little farther, the spell broken, flashing that beautiful grin at him. For all that, Rose still seemed shy. "Thank you," she said, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Rose Tyler, I'm s..." He faltered in his apologetic words once more, anxious to figure out what had just transpired, or had failed to as the case may be.

She smiled again at him, then a strange expression crossed her face briefly. Emboldened by what, she wasn't sure, but she reached up and pulled his face closer to hers. The Doctor's respiratory bypass kicked in as he felt her breath, hot against his cheek, followed quickly and intently by the pressure of her soft lips. It only lasted a moment, this kiss, but it felt infinite to the Doctor.

Rose tipped her face down, away from the Doctor's. Her wild blonde tresses tickled his chin, and he breathed slowly, trying to memorize every sensation, every scent. Sweet, like her shampoo, and something else. Risking another deep breath, he could taste the dizzying swell of hormones flooding her system, temporarily drowning the Doctor's senses. Was she...?

"I know," she whispered, snapping his focus back to the present. She sighed and pulled back again, straightening herself, as though trying to shake herself into focus as well. "Let's just... be better, all right?" Rose squeezed his hand again, lifting her eyes to meet his firmly, "Maybe you can try not losing your temper so dramatically, and I can try not to ruin the fabric of space and time, yeah?" She grinned, the tip of her tongue peeking out flirtatiously between her teeth.

He chuckled, and ducked his head, breaking their gaze. "Suppose you're on to something, there." He squeezed her hand in response, and could feel the remaining tension ease from the air between them.

"Maybe, yeah."


	5. Dance

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Doctor Who. Not one little bit. Neither do I own Marcus Foster's amazing song "I Was Broken", which is the inspiration for this story. I do heartily recommend giving it a listen before you read. It'll help set the tone, if you're into that.

A/N: Had debated writing a more 'M' rated one off for between this part and the next couple. Would anyone be interested in that, or should I just leave this pristine and 'T' rated? Just curious!

_Yes and you, and you,_  
_Well you walk these lonely streets and people stare._  
_There are some wounds that just can't mend._

The swinging music was lovely, but nothing compared to the gorgeous sound of Rose's boisterous laughter ringing out in the console room as she spun and swayed. The Doctor watched as the charming time agent Jack dipped her down, leaving a trail of warm, sparkling gold in the air. Rose squealed gleefully and clutched at Jack's shirt, peals of laughter erupting from them both.

The Doctor watched them from nearby, leaning against one of the TARDIS's coral struts. He'd had his chance to dance, and after having taken Rose for a few turns around the console room, pretty boy Jack was quick to cut in an have a dance too.

Jack had only been on the ship for a matter of hours, and already the Doctor was irritated. Not that the captain had done something wrong, or was inherently a bad person (the Doctor consoled himself that he wouldn't have saved his life if that were the case), but he couldn't help the crawling feeling under his skin when he saw the wolfish way Jack eyed Rose. Like she was a perfect meal, waiting to be devoured. In fact, he couldn't stand it. The way Rose blushed when she caught Jack looking at her like that didn't help at all.

It wasn't like Jack was completely unaware of the tension building in the room. He may have played the pretty, somewhat dumb ex-time agent, but he knew that look the Doctor kept boring into him. That look transcended language and species. He was all too aware of that fact. Still, he couldn't help but flirt and play with the gorgeous young blonde currently beaming and somewhat breathless in his arms. It was all in good fun, anyway. Relatively harmless.

Jack spun Rose around again, and turned his back to the Doctor's increasingly jealous and dark stare, and had to hold back a smile. She was trying to be subtle about it, but Rose kept trying to peek around Jack's shoulder, toward where the leather-clad Doctor sulked. He casually angled them so there were no obstructions in her field of vision, and felt his heart sink a little. He knew that look too, the one that Rose wore when she looked to the Doctor. Ah, well...

Rose startled as Jack suddenly broke their dance, having been caught up in her own thoughts.

"You know what this party needs?" Jack asked, a mischievous grin spreading across his features.

The Doctor sighed. He could only imagine what that 51st century swarm of hormones was thinking.

"Drinks!" Jack laughed. The Doctor looked mildly relieved, and Rose smiled.

"That sounds fantastic, Jack. Perfect way to celebrate this day, right?" She deferred the question to her brooding friend, who merely snorted a little.

"I take it this marvelous vessel has a kitchen, Doc?" Jack pointed down the nearby corridor.

The Doctor just nodded his head, his glance cautionary to say the least. "The TARDIS'll show you."

"Back in a flash. Save me a dance, Rosie?" He winked flirtatiously, before dashing out of the room. Rose couldn't help but laugh again.

Rose and the Doctor remained where they had been when Jack had left, silent for a few moments. The vibrant song they had been dancing to began to fade, replaced gradually by one of a slower, more sensual tone. Neither spoke, both avoiding the tension they felt stirring in the air, electric and sharp.

She could feel his gaze intently on her as she began to move around the console, caressing it with the tips of her fingers. The Doctor followed every movement greedily as she began to gently sway her hips as she walked, timing each step with the downbeat of the song. He let his eyes drift over her, tracing the swell of the curves that her jeans clung to, the teasing bit of skin that was bared near the lower edge of her top.

He jerked his head away from her direction, suddenly feeling ashamed. He had not so long ago stopped denying the attraction he felt toward his young companion, but it didn't mean he had to leer at her like some daft, dirty old man. It didn't make it right. And the jealousy? He had recognized it too, every time Jack laid a hand on her, benign or no. Still.

"Well, c'mon then, Doctor."

He snapped his head back toward Rose, and felt his jaw slacken. She stood at the top of the steps, hand extended, wild-haired and still slightly flushed from the more fast-paced dancing she'd been doing, looking even more like a goddess than usual.

"I still don't believe you've shown me all your moves." She beckoned him, wiggling the fingers of her extended hand. Rose smiled teasingly, that tongue-touched grin she seemed to save just for him, and he felt his hearts rush in response.

With every ounce of restraint he had, the Time Lord sauntered (since when did he saunter? What was this girl doing to him?) as casually as he could toward her, his blue eyes never breaking from hers. At the top of the stairs he stopped and stood, mere inches from her. He could feel the heat radiating off of Rose, hear her heart pounding away quickly in her chest.

"Oh, I'll show you some moves, Rose Tyler." The words came out perhaps a little huskier than he'd intended, and he marveled at how deep and dark her eyes had become as they fell from his lips. It took all his control not to breathe in heavily the spike of her pheromones, to not smile smugly as a vivid pink blush coloured her skin.

Perhaps, just perhaps, he wasn't the only one who felt that pull, that longing, when they were together. He could hope, anyway.

Wordlessly, he took Rose's hand in his as they stepped away from the small staircase. Slowly they swayed together, almost imperceptibly in the smallest of circles. Their eyes remained locked together as he pressed his hand into her lower back, pulling her closer. Rose's breaths were shallow, almost nervous, and the Doctor watched her soft pink tongue dart out to moisten full lips, still parted in a somewhat surprised expression.

Tentatively, the Doctor tipped his head down, ever so slightly closer to Rose's face. He was sure she could feel the anxious beat of his hearts against her chest, the hesitant but hopeful look he was sure he wore across his weathered face.

Rose wasn't sure when they'd actually stopped dancing, but she didn't much care, either. The Doctor held her firmly, his body coiled tightly. She could taste his breath, cooler than hers, as it came in carefully metered exhalations near her mouth. She'd only need to lean in, just an inch or so, before their lips would touch. She felt her eyes began to flutter closed as they drew nearer to each other.

"Found it!"

The two figures split apart as though they'd been electrocuted by Jack's sudden reappearance.

"Took me a while. You weren't kidding, Doc, this ship is massive..." Jack trailed off as he surveyed the scene before him. The Doctor stalking away, hands clenched into fists tightly, the set of his jaw anything but pleased. Rose, for her part, ran her nervous fingers through her hair, trying her best not to look like a child having been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

"Did I..." Jack mused aloud, "... miss something?" He tried not to let a knowing tone creep into his voice as the now awkward pair quickly, and together, no less, tried to deny.

The Doctor had never been so frustrated, as he clutched onto the opposite side of the console from Rose. He thought, grimly, that if he just spontaneously regenerated from all of this soon, he wouldn't be the least bit surprised. He found himself also wishing dearly that he could knock the smarmy, knowing grin Jack had plastered on his handsome face clean off.

Rose broke the tense silence next. "Well, I'm knackered." She declared, although her tone was hardly convincing. "S'pose I should get to bed. Who knows what alien planet we'll be saving next, right?" She forced a laugh, and carefully began to make her way toward the corridor.

Rose slowed by the Doctor, letting her hand gently caress his leather covered arm as she passed. "G'night Doctor."

Jack watched the heated look they exchanged, feeling a soft pang of envy. He gently swung the half-filled bottle of liquor he'd brought from the kitchen in his hands, feeling all the more like an intruder on this scene.

"Sleep well, Rose Tyler." The Doctor couldn't help but hear the strange reverence in his voice as he spoke her name this time. Did he always sound like that? Rassilon, these bloody hormones flooding his system...

She smiled softly, almost sadly, and continued her walk. Rose paused by Jack very briefly, offering a more cheerful but distant goodnight to him as well.

"I'll see you in the morning, doll. Sweet dreams." He couldn't help but smile and wink at her again, if nothing else but to elicit that humoured smile from her before she departed for bed.

Both the Doctor and Jack stood silent in the console room, watching as Rose disappeared down the hall.

Jack uncorked the bottle, pouring a small measure into one of the glasses he'd brought. If he'd thought the tension in the room had become palpable the moment he'd come back, it was nothing compared to now. He felt the Doctor's angry stare from across the room as he knocked back his drink, wishing deeply the soft burn of the liquor would provide more of a distraction from this sense of impending doom Jack felt rushing up at him.

"She's something, isn't she? Rose?" Jack laughed nervously, keeping his blue eyes glued toward the corridor, trying to avoid meeting the Doctor's stern look.

The Doctor took a deep breath. Calm. As much as he wanted to take out the physical frustration he felt boiling inside him, it wouldn't do. There'd be no real point, aside from making Rose upset at him, more than likely. Couldn't have that, not after they'd seemed to reach a sort of easy peace around each other.

But this man, he thought. Another deep breath. There needed to be some sort of... understanding, yes, understanding between them on the subject of his Rose.

His? No, not quite. This possessiveness startled him, but try as he might, there was no shaking it. Whether or not the statement held much truth, he knew his hearts were hers. And he so desperately wanted hers to belong to him, alone.

Smirking, the Doctor straightened up and began to make his way toward Jack. Might as well make his intentions clear. Very clear.

He noticed Jack tense up right away. He must've caught the movement out of the corner of his eye, but refused to turn. He took another drink, trying to calm his nerves.

"Y'know, captain," the word turned in the Doctor's northern burr, full of derision. He stopped walking once he'd come next to Jack, and clasped the man firmly on his broad shoulder. "Today, for once, everyone lived. Y'know how often that happens? Oh, it's very rare, Jack. Very rare indeed."

He could hear Jack swallow nervously, smell the fear beginning to trickle off his skin. "Was Rose, now, that saved your life. Begged me to go back for you. 'For saving us', she said." He paused, letting the words sink in. There was an edge to his voice, despite trying to maintain a certain leveled tone. "Was her that reminded me today that everyone had lived, hadn't they. Couldn't have you up and dying and spoiling an otherwise perfect ending, could we?"

Jack nodded, never turning his head. He'd have to thank Rosie later. Assuming he survived the next few moments, he thought wryly

"But I mark my words, Jack," the Doctor kept his voice even, almost calm. It was unnerving to the pretty boy, he knew. Good. Keep it that way. Serves him. "If you so much as touch Rose, I'll have no trouble finding some planet to lose you on. I can think of at least a dozen planets where you'd disappear and I'd have an easy time explaining it away to her."

The grip on Jack's shoulder intensified again, as though a deep punctuation to the Doctor's words.

"The blonde's off limits. Right. Got it, Doc." Jack winced at the slight squeak in his voice. There was something immeasurably frightening about the Doctor when he got like this. The darkness in him just creeping out enough that Jack knew he'd hold to his word, no room for error.

"Off limits." The Doctor repeated, finally loosening his grip. Good. He'd have no trouble with Jack, now.

"Everybody lives." Jack stated, relief in his voice. He glanced at the bottle in his hand. Yeah, another drink was more than in order. Maybe several.

"Just today." The Doctor clapped Jack on the back again, smiling grimly as Jack finally turned to meet his eyes. A long moment of silence passed between the two, the understanding acknowledged.

As the music began to pick up tempo again, the previous sultry track finished, the Doctor took it as his cue to leave. He had other... tensions that required his attention. Otherwise he'd be in for a very, very long night as the two humans slept their lives away.

With only a nod, the Doctor walked away, letting his mind wander back to more pleasant thoughts. Namely, thoughts of one very lovely Rose Tyler and how very, very lovely that pink flush had looked blazing across her skin.

Jack watched as the Doctor left, pouring himself another drink in the console room. "Well," he mused out loud to himself, "this is gonna be one hell of a trip..."


	6. Still

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Doctor Who, no matter how many stars I wish on. I also do not own Marcus Foster's amazing song "I Was Broken", which is the piece that inspired this little trip.

A/N: Sorry this has taken so long! Been going through a rough bout with my depression, which really puts a damper on the creative writing bit. Thank you so much for your understanding and patience! I appreciate it immensely. 3

He tried the switch one more time. The TARDIS was having none of it. Something had happened to the energy she'd taken from the rift in Cardiff when they'd opened her heart, and it would take a few days to recalibrate it before she could use it properly.

Rose and Jack didn't seem to mind the idea of a couple quiet days in the vortex before returning the egg to Raxacoricofallapatorius. In fact, the Doctor noted, they were pretty quick to suggest the idea of a film marathon and lounging about for at least a day in their jimjams.

Rolling his eyes, he watched at his two companions skip away down the corridor to make their 'preparations' for their little stay in the vortex. The Doctor turned his attention back to the console. He could probably stand to putter away for a few hours, make a few adjustments here or there...

It couldn't have been more than an hour before the TARDIS gave him his first warning zap, followed ten minutes later by a much firmer one. Apparently, she didn't have much patience with the Doctor's tinkering while she was busy this time. The Doctor rubbed his shocked fingertips and set down his tools. Fine, then. He'd find something else to occupy his time.

Somewhat annoyed, he stalked off toward the library.

The sound of raucous laughter in the media room caught his attention. He paused, poking his head into the darkened room. Jack sat sprawled across one of the loungers, with Rose curled up on the far side of the sofa. The howling laughs had died down into chuckles as their attention was diverted to the dark shadow in the doorway.

"Come on in, Doc!" Jack called. "This one's great! I'm sure the pseudo-science in this one will make your head spin." He added teasingly.

The Doctor eyed the screen suspiciously. He knew Rose and Jack's taste in movies - notoriously bad, cheesy, and barely tolerable. He couldn't fathom why they routinely subjected themselves to these films. Although despite his better judgement, the empty spot on the sofa next to Rose was very tempting...

Rose peeked up over the back of the sofa. "Spot right here for ya!" She patted the empty seat invitingly, and though she did her best to look at ease, there was a flicker of anxiousness in her golden brown eyes.

"Later," he smiled at Rose, trying not to betray himself through his own hesitations. "Got a little reading to catch up on first." And before either could protest, he turned and left.

It wasn't a total lie, anyway. He did want to sift through that TARDIS manual one more time, and compare a few notes from other tomes. However, since the unexpected end of their emotionally charged dance some weeks prior, there'd been a strange and unspoken tension between Rose and the Doctor. A tension that neither seemed inclined to diffuse. Or, as was the case with the Doctor, hadn't the slightest clue as to how exactly to diffuse. Every accidental touch was fraught with nervous energy, and the intentional ones felt full of a subtext the Doctor couldn't translate.

To say it was frustrating didn't even begin to cover it. He sighed. Humans.

The Doctor settled himself down on the sofa in library, and flipped open the manual on the nearby table. Ah yes, energy recalibrations and interface disruptions...

It didn't take long for his thoughts to wander, though. As important as he could insist to himself that it was to reread and keep up on his TARDIS's well-being, he couldn't keep his mind off a certain yellow and pink human.

It infuriated him, in some ways. How simple it had been, really, for Rose to make her way into his hearts. Not that he hadn't cared deeply any of his other companions, but... there was something else.

The physical attraction was easy enough to explain away - she was gorgeous, and not just for a human, as he had been so quick to point out that time. Rose shimmered and sparkled and he longed to take her into his arms and devour all that she was, to fill all the empty places inside himself. Bury all his pain and sorrow under her skin, let the heat of her touch cauterize the old wounds stretching across his body and mind.

The Doctor shook his head, pushing back the swell of the hormones trying to cloud his thoughts further. These fantasies would do no good to anyone, least of all himself. It was unfair to even entertain them. Rose's life would be so fleeting in comparison, over in the blink of an eye as far as the vastness of time was concerned. If he kept her like that, he would have to watch her fade and falter as her life slipped by, the minutes and hours ticking so quickly, while he remained, the last of the Time Lords, comparatively unending.

He closed his eyes, rubbing the furrows of his brow with his idle hand against the frustration forming there. How many times had the Doctor had this silent conversation with himself lately? Too many times to bear thinking about. And a resolution never came any closer to mind.

With a deep sigh, he tried to return his attentions to the book open on his lap, the elegant swirls of Gallifreyan text dancing on the page. Focus...

It was only the padding of soft footfalls that broke his concentration next, some six hours later. He didn't turn, letting his ears identify the delicate sound of Rose's slippered feet coming into the library, followed by an awed gasp.

That's right, he'd never brought her in here before. He'd brought books out to her, particularly some Charles Dickens after their first adventure, and they'd read in the comfort of the media room, or over tea in the kitchen, but never here. He wondered why, now. It was an impressive room, even for the grandeurs of the TARDIS, spanning three floors, full of ladders and lofts and a breathtaking collection of the works of the universe. And he did so love to be impressive, especially to Rose.

Stop it now, he told himself firmly. Stop. Won't do.

"Done with your films, then?" The Doctor queried, forcing his eye to stay trained on the text before him.

Rose took a few more quiet steps, her attention diverted by the beautiful library. It took her a moment more for her to register she'd been spoken to before replying "Oh, yeah... Jack fell asleep at the start of the last one, and I got bored. Decided to take a wander."

"Well, Rose Tyler," the Doctor said, "Welcome to the library." He stole a glance at her as she passed near the back of the sofa. She was still in her jimjams, or what passed for them, anyway - a pair of bed shorts and a vest top layered with one of her hoodies. It wasn't the first time he'd seen her in so little, but the sight still made his breath hitch momentarily. Unnerved from his previous cleared thoughts, the Doctor flipped the page of his book a little more harshly than intended, chastising himself.

The Doctor felt the cushions on the back of the sofa depress as Rose leaned over them near his head, as she hummed quietly. Glancing up to her, he noticed her own gaze was focused deeply on the text in his hands, dark brows knotted in concentration. He half wondered if she was trying to read the Gallifreyan. He studied her as she worried her lower lip, eyes still drifting over the book's pages.

"Is something wrong with the TARDIS?" Rose asked quietly, her eyes never leaving the book.

"What's that?"

"Well," Rose began, reaching a tentative hand out to trace the delicate spirals of Gallifreyan, "Can't read it. She usually translates everything, doesn't she? Does this have to do with what happened at Cardiff?"

His hearts ached gently with how touched he was over her concern for the beloved time ship. But that was Rose, wasn't it? All warmth and kindness and emotion. It was what he l...

Stop that. Won't do. Enough.

"It's Gallifreyan." The Doctor spoke finally, "She won't translate that. No for no one."

Rose withdrew her hand, slowly. "I see." She stayed leaning over the back of the sofa, though, close enough that the Doctor could've tilted his head to the side and rested his cheek against her forearm.

Long moments passed in a strange silence, neither daring to break it, yet each knowing the air hung full of unanswered questions.

It was Rose who spoke first. "Will you read it to me?" She blurted out quickly, as though afraid of asking at all. She turned her head to meet his eyes, pleading, and the Doctor could hear her heart quicken as he studied her face.

The Doctor couldn't help but chuckle softly. She wanted him to read the manual to her. Of course she did. It's not like she knew that's what it was, to be fair, but he couldn't help but find humour in the situation. Well, this wouldn't do... But he knew what would...

Gently, he closed the heavy tome, and caught the slightly hurt expression that crossed his companion's face.

"Rose Tyler..." The Doctor began.

She interrupted, her emotions getting the better of her. "Well, if you didn't want to..." Hurt flowed through her words.

"... I'm not reading to you from the TARDIS manual." He finished, a small smile curling his mouth, blue eyes twinkling.

Rose's words stopped instantly, a blush staining her cheeks, her full lips forming a soft 'o'.

Quickly, the Doctor skimmed his eyes over the shelves by the nearby fireplace. "There," he pointed, "third shelf from the bottom, seventh book from the left. Just a little thing, that maroon one, with the gold scroll work."

Rose scurried to grab the book, turning it over in her hands, admiring the intricate cover before making her way back to the sofa.

It was a book of poetry, a relative rarity for his people to begin with. But this book was of an even rarer sort - romantic, emotional poems, almost unheard of in the clinical society of Time Lords and Ladies. To be so passionate, to devote so much energy to something they had considered so base as to write poetry about it, well, it just didn't happen. Often, that is. There were a handful of books in existence like this one, each one full of the depths of the author's hearts, each one considered to be madness by the standards of his peers.

Of course the Doctor had collected copies of them all.

Not that the Doctor would ever admit fully to Rose what this book contained. This one in particular was a collection of epistles the author had written for his love, in secret, published off world before his death, since no one Gallifrey would touch it, for fear they would be associated with the madness that had consumed the author.

The Doctor took the book into his hands, and before he had the chance to slide over on the sofa to make room for Rose, she had climbed up and curled up against his side. Burrowing under his left arm until she found the curve where shoulder met chest, she snuggled in as though she'd done this a thousand times before.

Certainly, they cuddled a little from time to time, when reading, or when Rose had cajoled him into watching a film, but not like this. Her body lay pressed along the length of his side, all curves and softness and so much warmth. The Doctor's breathing was shallow with surprise at how at ease Rose seemed to be. Whatever was going through her mind, she was set and unrepentant about where she had decided to be, and despite his shock, he wouldn't have her anywhere else.

"What's this one, then?" She murmured, looking up at the open book.

Well, if she could feel so bold, so could the Doctor. "Poetry." He paused, trying to find the careful words. "It's... rare, for my people. Time Lords weren't like you lot, always going round, pouring you hearts out." The Doctor waited again, gauging her reaction. Rose was still, her attention rapt. "Was considered a bit of madness in my people to do so, let alone commit it to the written form." Well, it wasn't perfect. But it was a start.

Rose hummed quietly, waiting patiently for him to begin. The Doctor could feel her heart pounding against his side, quickened and bright, like a caged bird in her chest. Perhaps she wasn't as bold as he'd originally thought. But she had taken the risk, and now he breathed her deep. Sweetness and heat and that tantalizing hint of the effect he was discovering he had on her beginning to show. It was all he could to not purr and bury his face in those golden tresses so near his cheek.

Stop. Please.

Finally he read. The lilting, musical tones roughened slightly under his tension and northern burr. It was beautiful though, the cadences rising and falling like a song from the stars themselves. Rose's physical closeness lent a certain poignancy to the verses the Doctor hadn't intended.

Rose felt herself swept away. It wasn't that she hadn't known the Doctor could be so tender, but there was something she couldn't quite identify, lingering behind these foreign words as they danced in her mind. She knew better to ask too many questions when he was like this, knowing it would break the spell and he'd go back to the strangely tense creature he'd been over the last few weeks. Their dance may have ended abruptly that evening, but still they danced around each other still, dodging unspoken words and wondering.

The Doctor felt her nuzzle ever so softly against the wool of his sweater. Did she just breath him in, as he had to her not so long ago? He tried desperately to ignore the pounding of his own hearts and focused on the text in front of him. Tried to keep the shiver out of his voice as her breath ghosted across his chest, like a trail of fire. Tried to steady his hands as she shifted her body against his, until she had found the place where she fit perfectly.

Diligently, the Doctor continued to read until they had both relaxed into each other. Before long, Rose's breathing became slow and shallow as sleep overtook her. Softly, he closed the book and rested it on the nearby table, and stared down at his sleeping companion. The Doctor carefully wrapped his arms around her, cradling Rose in her sleep, stroking her hair.

He couldn't move without waking her. Firmly, the Doctor quieted the rational part of his mind that had been begging all day to stop, to pull back, to reestablish his lines, and pressed a kiss to the crown of Rose's head. Let time be damned, let the clocks burn. Let it all fall away. None of it mattered while she was here. No matter how fragile she was, no matter how brief her life, he didn't care. He knew where his hearts lay, now. Where they would always be.

For the first time in days, the Doctor closed his eyes, and let the peace overtake him.


End file.
